


luck of the irish

by crustybaguettes



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Early Beatles, teddy boy! beatles, teddy boy! george
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crustybaguettes/pseuds/crustybaguettes
Summary: Liverpool, 1960“Evie, be a good lass and tell those fellas next door to quieten down.” The ‘fellas’ in question were Evie’s next door neighbours, or, her teddy boy neighbour and his rowdy friends.
Relationships: George Harrison/Original Character(s), George Harrison/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	luck of the irish

**Author's Note:**

> is this a wattpad good girl meets bad boy? maybe. do i care? absolutely not.
> 
> btw i mixed up some facts and shit just for lols

“Evie, be a good lass and tell those fellas next door to quieten down.” Evie’s father said as he angrily flipped through that morning’s paper. It was about 7 o’clock at night and the girl was cooking dinner, the two person family not requiring much effort at meal time. The ‘fellas’ in question were Evie’s next door neighbours, or, her teddy boy neighbour and his rowdy friends. She wasn’t too sure what his name was, she’d never spoken to him really, but every once in a while as she was walking to and from school she’d see him walking about, or smoking out the front. His friends were even more of a mystery; they were all in a band, and all the girls in her class went mad when they played shows at the club. She’d never been to a show, not because she didn’t want to, but because she didn’t exactly have many friends. 

Evie, short for Caoimhe (kee-va), had moved to Liverpool from Dublin at the start of the school year after her half-British father separated from her Irish mother and took Evie with him. Her mop of token Irish red hair, despite all her grooming efforts, did nothing to help any dwindling popularity she had, so she soaked in the teasing and went about her day. Despite this, she counted her blessings to even be in sixth form (her mother wanted her to leave school and become a typist or secretary) and stuck her nose to the grindstone, consistently placing herself at the top of the class, which, in reality, only invited more teasing.

She looked down at her attire, cotton shorts and a charity shop jumper, before sighing in defeat, knowing her father wasn’t moving from the couch anytime soon. “Okay Da, be back in a second. Don’t let the pot boil over.” She said in vain, the man only grunting half-heartedly in response. Evie slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and crossed her arms in front of her, increasingly aware of how underdressed she was to be outside. She padded over to the large house and gently pushed on the gate, which had thankfully been left unlocked. Rapping on the door three times, she heard shuffling inside and a tired, “What’ve yeh done now John?” before a small, older woman was revealed in the archway. 

“Oh hello dear, yer that Irish bird from next door, right?” The older woman asked, her demeanour flipping from annoyed to open. Evie knew she should probably know her name, but her father had never been big on socialising and she was indifferent either way. 

“Ah yes, yes that would be me. I’m sorry to be a bother, but me da was just wondering if you could keep it down a bit? He works very early in the mornin’ and it makes him a bit of a grump.” The two laughed politely before the woman replied. 

“I’ll just tell the boys to keep it down, oh, that reminds me, would yeh like to come in for a tick? I don’t think we’ve ever met proper before.” Evie was all too aware of the pasta boiling next door, but then remembered she’d turned the stove down to the lowest heat and that her dad would probably be drooling in his sleep by now, so she agreed and stepped through the door. 

“What was that about?” A boy’s voice called from the living room, still obscured by the wall as Evie slipped her shoes off.

“It’s yeh and the racket yer makin’. Got the neighbours complainin’.” 

The two women entered the room to be met with the sight of four boys, all around Evie’s age, all lazing on the carpeted floor. There seemed to be several guitars abandoned on various pieces of furniture and some sort of card game taking place on the coffee table with a full ashtray at the epicentre of the group. At the sight of Evie, the boys scrambled to sit up straight and one even punched John on the arm, a silent conversation taking place in their eyes. 

“Yeh didn’t tell us there was a lass comin’ over, John.” The same boy semi-whispered, his downturned eyes glancing back and forth from Evie to John (who she now knew was the teddy boy she’d seen in the streets). 

“As if I knew.” John replied sharply.

“Settle down boys, this is…” The woman trailed off, realising she didn’t actually know the girl’s name.

“Caoimhe, Evie. I live next door, me da was just bein’ a hardass, I don’t really mind but he’ll throw a tanty if he can’t hear the TV over youse.” Evie said shyly, not used to so many eyes on her that weren’t maliciously waiting for her next move that they could then counter. 

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that love, we’ll keep it down. My name’s John.” Her neighbour introduced himself, looking pointedly at the other boys to continue as to ease some of the tension. 

“I’m Paul, sorry to cause yeh any trouble.”

“M’name’s Pete, nice to meet yeh.”

“I’m George, yeh go to Broughton Hall, don’t yeh?” The youngest looking boy asked, Evie somewhat taken aback by his question. 

“Way to be a creep, George.” Paul muttered. 

“No my uh, my sister works there, she’s an English teacher.” George said in a soft yet defensive tone. Evie couldn’t help but blush at his inquiry, the attention from an attractive boy something she wasn’t used to, going to an all girls college. 

“Miss Harrison?” George nodded his head and Evie continued. “The girls are always askin’ her questions about you, ‘What’s George doin’ tonight?’ or ‘Miss, do yeh know when George’s playin’ again?’” The room erupted into laughter at her miserable Scouse impression and George just looked at his feet bashfully. Evie happened to catch a glance at the clock on the wall and realised she’d been gone for a quarter of an hour already, so she said her goodbye’s and put her shoes back on at the door, purposely not listening to the rush of whispers filling the room she’d just exited. 

“I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Mimi, John’s my nephew. Anytime yeh need anythin’, yeh just swing by.” Mimi said in farewell as Evie headed out the door and walk-jogged back to her house, relieved to find her dad fast asleep and the pasta only somewhat soggy. She quickly poured the vegetables into a separate pot and stirred them in with the store bought sauce, the meal done in the following 10 minutes. Even though the TV was blaring loud and proud in the background, she couldn’t help but cast her mind back to George, his dark eyes looking at her with genuine curiosity and kindness.

The next day was a Saturday, so the groceries from 2 weeks ago had been waning for a few days. They weren’t poor, per say, their house was a testament to that, but her dad had spent most of the savings on said house and wasn’t earning nearly what he earned in Ireland, leaving Evie to make do with her 50p a week allowance and the money he sectioned off for her to do what her mother did in their old house; cooking, cleaning, all those ‘womanly’ things. He knew she had dreams for university, but he was also stubborn and old-fashioned, so Evie took what she could get and saved every possible pence for her university fund. 

“I’m headin’ down to the shops now da, be back in a bit. There’s some bread for toast if you get hungry before then.” Evie called from the doorway which she exited before he could reply. Her flat iron had sparked the week before from overuse, so her curls were tied up in a bouncy ponytail, tendrils falling loose around her face. She had a straw basket with a few fabric bags inside for the shopping, but she still dreaded the walk home, arms laden with food in glass jars and tin cans. Evie distinctly remembered being given the straw basket when her parents broke the news of their divorce to her, the lovely woven tan reeds still not enough to distract her from the pain of the event. Before she could dwell on the topic any longer, a person made themselves known to her, soon recognisable as George, leather jacket and all. 

“Hello.” She commented with a surprised tone. “Didn’t know you lived with John too.” The pair laughed and George awkwardly scratched the back of his head, nervous around the girl he’d only known spoken to for a few minutes the night before.

“Slept over at his ‘ouse, we’ve got a show tonight and he lives closest. Don’t think Mimi’s too happy ‘bout it but.” He said with a cheeky grin. Evie noticed how pronounced his canines were and couldn’t help the flutter in her stomach at seeing his smile. 

“Sounds fun, what do you do? In the band I mean.” She clarified seeing his confused expression.

“Oh I uh, play guitar, sing a bit too. Not out the front, just some harmonies, that kind of shite.” George admitted humbly, scuffing his boots on the pavement to downplay his part in the band. 

“I used to play piano, then me ma got sick of the noise so I stopped.” Evie said, realising that she’d turned the mood down in an effort to relate. George gave her a sympathetic look and brightened up the tone again.

“So yeh like music then?” She nodded her head. “Yeh should come see the show tonight. We’re on at 8 at the Cavern Club, yeh know, the one on Matthew street?” George seemed puzzled by Evie’s blank look, the girl having only been to the shops and local cinema a handful of times, never venturing out past sunset. 

“I don’t really go out much.” George looked crestfallen and she quickly rectified the conversation. “Not that I don’t want to, I’d love to come, it’s just that I don’t exactly have many people to go with.” She smiled sheepishly and George’s expression changed back to it’s seemingly default ‘confused’ setting. 

“Just come by yerself then. We’ll meet yeh after the show, I’ll even walk yeh home like.” Evie turned the idea over in her head, thinking through ways her dad would let her go. She’d never asked to go out at night before, so she’d technically never been stopped. The thought of going to a show, let alone  _ George’s  _ show made her grin like the cheshire cat and she nodded her head, curls bobbing up and down as she did so. Both smiled at each other warmly, equally as excited to spend more time with the other. 

They neared the entrance to the grocery store, George stepping out in front of her to push open the door, a small bell signaling their arrival. Evie lifted up her imaginary skirts to perform a dramatic curtsy as her own was too short to do so and remain decent. They both giggled and strolled lazily down the aisles, the girl checking things off and writing down prices on her small list as items found their way into the trolley which was being pushed by George. They looked like quite an odd pair; George with his teddy boy coif and slick leather attire, and Evie with her auburn ringlets and fluffy cardigan looking like the spitting image of a stock standard girl next door. Her soft-soled shoes quietly shuffled across the lino while George’s Oxfords made a resounding clack every step he took causing the surrounding shoppers to shoot him wary glances, especially when they noticed the girl by his side. 

“I never asked George, how old are you?” Evie absentmindedly mused as she scanned her eyes over the tins of baked beans, searching for the most reduced brand. 

“18 in February.” He answered in a tone that suggested he was used to acting older than he was.

“So, 17.” Evie retorted with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m 17 too. I won’t start talkin’ down to you or anythin’.”

“Thank God, the lads can’t seem to get enough of it. Act like I’m still in school, they do.” George scoffed, rolling his eyes but still maintaining an affectionate tone. 

“You aren’t?” Evie questioned again.

“Nah, wasn’t too keen on sixth form, just hopin’ the band thing takes off.”

“By the way, what’s your band called? Figure I should know before I come watch youse.” Evie said as they rolled the trolley to a register and began loading things onto the black belt, the uninterested elderly cashier giving George a disapproving look that went unnoticed by him before scanning the items. 

“The Silver Beatles, it’s John’s name, before yeh say anythin’.” George preemptively defended himself.

“No, it’s unique, like the um, the Crickets!” Evie exclaimed with excitement, feeling like she had made an accomplishment by remembering the band she’d heard on the radio a few weeks prior.

“Exactly!” George replied with equal energy, happy at seeing the girl so interested in his band.

“That’ll be £2.43.” The cashier said dully, looking at George and expecting him to pay the amount due. Evie dug around in her coin purse before producing the exact right amount, having accrued several weeks worth of record-shop change (she was a big fan of the 5p milk crates they had full of 45s). 

After paying and picking up the bags of food, the two headed out and back to Evie’s house, conversations flowing as if they’d never be able to speak again. The walk was noticeably easier with George carrying half the load, and Evie couldn’t help but let her imagination run off with the domestic image of the boy, arms full of shopping bags and head tipped back with laughter. Butterflies rose in her stomach and she admired each line of his face like it was a piece of art in itself, soon feeling disappointment as they rose the front steps to her house. She awkwardly reached out to turn the handle, George following her inside to set down the bags on the kitchen counter. Evie’s father turned around in his armchair at her return, eyes widening when he saw George’s leather-clad back in his kitchen.

“What’re ya doin’ bringin’ teds into my house, ey?” He asked firmly, eyes not wavering from the young boy standing stock straight. 

“Da, this is George, he’s friends with the lad that lives next door. He was just helpin’ me with the shoppin’.” Evie explained calmly. “Oh, by the way, is it alright if I go out to a show tonight. I’ll pay for me ticket an’ I’ll be back by 10, latest. It’s George’s band, ‘e’s gonna walk me home after.” Evie’s father’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, giving the boy a once over before turning back to his paper, grumbling out something that sounded like a yes of some sorts. The two smiled at each other as George walked back towards the door, giving a little wave as he strolled over to John’s house. For the rest of the day, Evie couldn’t stop her thoughts from whirring around her head, thinking about anything and everything that could happen at the show. In the house next door, George entered only to be engulfed by rounds of teasing, his cheeks heating up but knowing it was worth it to see the Irish girl he couldn’t get out from behind his eyes. 

It reached 7:30pm as Evie was putting the finishing touches on her outfit. She wore a plaid skirt with a cream jumper tucked in, Mary Jane’s topped with a pair of white socks, the shoes saved for special occasions as her father always made a comment when she wore anything with a heel. “What’ve you got those on for, you’ll be sounding like a drippin’ tap from halfway down the street.” Her only reply was a short kiss on the cheek and a goodbye before making her way towards the club. There was quite a long line of people out the front, mostly girls in big groups all talking in an excited rush. She double checked her pocket to make sure she had the money for entry and walked hurriedly to the back of the line, wanting to make it inside before the band started. 

By 8 o’clock she had managed to snag a seat a few rows back from the stage and was eagerly awaiting the show to begin. When the boys walked out on stage a loud cheer exploded from the audience and Evie joined in, not well versed in concert etiquette. George’s head swivelled around like a desk chair until his eyes landed on the head of curly red hair looking up at him with a beaming smile, the girl’s presence egging him on to play as best he could. 

Their set flew by in what seemed like a matter of minutes, song after song bouncing off the walls and filling Evie with an indescribable emotion that just made her want to hear more. George bounced around as he plucked and strummed, shaking his hair and singing into the microphone with Paul while John’s voice took the lead and got people to bounce and shuffle along in their chairs. With a long round of final applause, the four boys walked off stage and people began filing out, others finding partners and dancing to the jukebox music that now bled out of the speakers. She didn’t want to seem too naïve or childish, but Evie couldn’t seem to stop her hands from fidgeting or her eyes from darting around the room as she leant on a bar stool and stayed on the lookout for George. 

“‘Ello love, enjoy the show?” A familiar voice spoke from beside her, coming up when she had been looking in the other direction and managing to elicit a small yelp of shock. George could only laugh at her expense as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her out the front door. She noticed he was walking particularly slowly, not wanting their time alone to end. 

“Yes, you’re very good Georgie, really, you are.” She reiterated when he seemed to brush off her words. The pair walked in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes, Evie leaning further into George’s side and his fingers tracing patterns onto her shoulder. 

“Evie, I know we’ve only known each other for a day, but I think yer a right lovely bird, and, well, would yeh want to go out with me?” George asked hesitantly. It seemed out of the blue but Evie felt her heart soar with happiness and she moved from under his arm to stand directly in front of him, the pair having stopped moving entirely. She just smiled at him and traced his face with her eyes, the street lamps casting him in an ethereal glow. “Well?” He repeated, Evie realising she hadn’t actually replied yet.

“Oh, yes, yeah of course.” She said hastily causing a smile to grow on the boy’s face, canines and all. 

“Really?” He asked in disbelief.

“Mm hmm, anytime, any place. But not really, I have school from 8 to 3. Anytime other than that.” The pair laughed and Evie slotted her hand into his and rested her other one in the crook of his elbow, shoulders bumping as her head leant into him. They reached the front of her house and turned to each other, bright smiles and light hearts. 

“I had a fun night tonight, Georgie.” Evie said softly, her eyes level with George’s as she stood on her front step. 

“Ditto, love, ditto.” Her stomach twisted happily at the nickname and she leant over to give him a kiss on the cheek, a splotchy flush blossoming over his face at the contact. “I think yeh missed.” He muttered their face so close that she could feel his breath on her top lip. 

“Well, only one thing I can do about that.” Evie replied before moving forward a smidge and placing her lips on his own, mouths moving in unison. George’s hands gingerly rested on her waist and her moved to cup his face then sliding down to rest on his shoulders. The kiss was gentle and slow, neither feeling the need to escalate things beyond where they were. It didn’t help that Evie was all too aware of her curfew looming closer and closer. “I think I oughta go.” She murmured, neither wanting to leave the embrace. 

“Will I see yeh tomorrow?” George asked, slightly pulling away from the girl. 

“Only if you want to.” Evie said with a teasing tone and one last kiss on the cheek as she walked up the steps, turning around once more to give the boy a wave before shutting the door behind her. That evening, no amount of interrogating from her father could ruin the haze of giddiness that followed her through the night.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!!! i think i prefer writing x oc instead of x reader but idk let me know


End file.
